Ebony Wings

7

~Ali~

"What do you mean you're right?" I spout. The only thing the search is bringing up are links related to celestial beings. Is it really so hard to believe that I do not see the connection here?

"Okay, go into this website." Jaz's finger points to the second link on my laptop. I hover the cursor over the hyperlink and hesitate for a moment before double clicking. "Read the passage out loud, while I think about all of this."

I clear the tension from my throat and read dubiously. "Ethan Hamon - a high ranking, powerful angel," I stumble over the word 'angel' and look to Jaz, torn between bewilderment, disbelief and laughing right in her face. But she shakes her head and tells me to carry on. "Hamon is described as a gallant and esteemed Prince of the Heavens. Jaz, you must be kidding me! Have you gone completely insane?"

"You don't think I know how crazy this sounds? Trust me, out of everybody on this planet, I know how crazy it all sounds." And at the slightly crazed empathy in her voice, I am suddenly sure that for some reason she does know. "But what I am trying to get across to you is that Ethan Hamon is not just any angel. He is a Prince Angel. But for complicated reasons that I have not fully grasped, he is currently working as a Guardian Angel. And at present, he is working as your Guardian Angel." The expression on my face must be something between incredulity and  hysteria because Jaz's features soften into something tender. "Come, let's get some fresh air."

I walk on autopilot following the back of Jaz's feet towards the small orchard tucked away behind the social sciences department. Sometimes I voice the questions shouting in my head and other times I smother them down, ruminating the thought further.

As we lift the rusty lock on the gate the crisp smell of apples, plums and pears sweetens the air in an enticing, heavy aroma. A fallen plum squishes under my foot as Jaz closes the wooden gate behind us with a creak. We walk straight ahead, cutting a path that bisects the orchard plot as we navigate the dense root systems and duck beneath the low hanging branches weighed down by beads of shining fruits.

"Before you say anything Ali, I just want you to hear me out, okay? Then you can say or call me whatever you like. I am going to be painfully blunt right now because honestly, I don't do these soft blow explanations." She pauses for a moment to catch her breath, so worked up over the matter. "If what you are telling me about Ethan is true, then you have what they call The Gift." I stare at her blankly, her words blurring inside my head like my brain is a shaken snow globe, my thoughts the snowflakes. "Alright, I see you are still not getting this. Let me explain it another way. There are billions and billions of Guardian angels in the world, right? In fact, one for almost every person. On earth, each angel is cloaked in a glamour, which acts like Harry Potter's invisible cloak."

"That reference would have had a stronger impact on someone who has seen Harry Potter."

"You haven't seen - ?" Jaz catches herself, knowing that it is deviating from her explanation.  "Not the point. As I was saying, their glamour is like an invisibility sheet that works similar to a one-way mirror; the Guardian can see their human, but the human can't see their Guardian. Understanding so far?" I nod curtly and cross my arms across my chest, suddenly feeling like I am being watched from the shadows. "Right, so The Gift reveals itself when a person reaches their catalyst age - yours was nineteen. Having The Gift means that that person has the ability to see through the glamour to their Guardian Angel, hence why Ethan appeared from nowhere on the morning of your birthday. The Gift is a birthright and not something that can be acquired or taken away."

Although it is all starting to make hazy sense, something is suspicious about Jaz's level of knowledge. "And how do you know all of this?"

"You are not the only special human around here," she winks and my eyebrows drift upwards, so sure that I couldn't have been surprised again today. "Only a hand full of people have it at one time, but the ones who preach about their Gift are usually are diagnosed with some form of mental illness and stuck on a routine of pills. Society has always found it easier to ignore possibility than to explore it."